


Vampire Banquet

by pandaperson



Category: The Case of the Gilded Lily (Short Film 2017)
Genre: F/F, help me, i dont wanna do this, the heat rats forced me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 12:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandaperson/pseuds/pandaperson
Summary: The heat rats forced me to write wig, and here they have it.I don't actually know what this is about, it's basically steamy with a lot of angst and some sweet, sweet homophobia.Mutual pining. Obviously.Marina almost cried several times while reading this.





	Vampire Banquet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marina uwu](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Marina+uwu).



> No, but seriously. Thanks to the heat rats.
> 
> I've been talking to you guys for two days and already love every single one of you.
> 
> Thanks for encouraging me to put this out there. <3
> 
> whilly is an insider nickname ya fools

"And I said to myself... APPLESAUCE," almost everyone in the room had turned their heads in Wilhelmina's direction by now. "...if I love her then who cares what other people think?!" Wilhelmina slurred, poking Bixby's arm a little too hard. The, obviously taller, man put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a concerned look. "I get it, but you might want to turn it down. I'm cool with that, but not everyone is. You don't want to make enemies." Wilhelmina frowned, but understood, even though she was more than heavily intoxicated which may or may not have to do with Fig. She and her...ugh,... beauty. The brunette angrily kicked the bar and bit her bottom lip as the hard wood made contact with her foot. She whimpered before letting her head sink down onto the counter and tried to look up at Bixby. "What do you think?" He shrugged, while turning to another customer, half-yelling over his shoulder, "how will you get home anyway?" Her head shot up and she had to stop herself from falling off the chair as the whole room began to spin. "I...wasn't planning on going home tonight." 

Bixby took the customers' order before returning to Wilhelmina, who was dumbfoundedly blinking. "What are you doing?" Bixby asked, at this point genuinely concerned about her, the way she sat there, slightly swaying and blinking, looking as cute as it was worrying. She didn't answer, and just stared off into the distance. "You won't stay here any longer. I'm gonna go call Fig to pick you up and safely take you home." Fig. Huh. The last person she needed to see right now. Seeing her, of course, she really did enjoy. Because there was so much to see, eyes to dive deeply into, soft, silky hair to feel between your fingers or tickling you behind your ear whenever she leaned over you from behind, her incredible dresses, the excitement whenever she talked about her job, which she frequently did, and when she did, Fig always thought she came off as annoying, because Wilhelmina seemed to be somewhere totally different, but no, she was there, fully focused on the words falling from her soft-looking lips, seeing the corners of her mouth twitch every once in a while, which made her herself smile, too, everytime. Not a chance that her smile, a smile so contagious, would not have an effect on her. In fact, it made her stomach drop and her heart beat faster, she started sweating, like a dumb teenager, and for a while, she really forgot that she was a grown woman, not a 13-year old with a crush on their best friend.

Best friend. Fig was Wilhelmina's best friend. They were inseparable, but she had to realize, they were friends and that's all they ever were going to be. Her drunken mind slipped away and into a memory that would, yes, always be her favorite and always be in her heart, but also always break it.  
She had just been dumped by her then boyfriend Freddy and, crying, she called up Fig, asking her in tears if she could by chance come over. She hesitated, but after a yell through the whole house and an equally, but farther away scream in return, she said she would be on her way. Back then, and also now, Wilhelmina didn't know that she faltered because she did not want to hear her blabber about boys she liked when she was right there. She didn't know why, but it made Fig uncomfortable, hearing her best friend talk about all the cute boys that wanted to, or already did, ask her out, and she always wondered why it wasn't allowed for her to just do the same. She still came over and they talked for over six hours on end, and at some point, they cried together. Wilhelmina cried because of Freddy, and Fig cried for the missed opportunity, the chance to ask her out.

Because that would never happen, and was currently against the law, Fig thought it was wrong, everything that was against the law had to be wrong. But as she grew up she realized while, yes, people just were idiots, it was in fact okay to feel this way. But because Whilly had always brought guys home and introduced them with that vibrant, cute grin of hers that made Fig feel like she was going to be sick, she was sure that, again, while it was okay and people just were ignorant, there was no way of her feeling the same way. So she looked for rebounds. All in secrecy, because she could not afford to lose her job, she met up with girls for just one night. They were all equally as attractive, but not by character. They were characterless, beautiful zombies, basically. The last one Fig could vividly remember was Vivian Nightingale, who, after a particular show and lots of hungry eyeing from Fig, had invited her into her dressing room with a knowing smirk. There were no feelings involved, she knew the clear difference between Wilhelmina and Vivian, she knew they weren't Whillys hands that touched her, and she also knew that the lips kissing all over her were not the ones she could, for the love of God, not stop staring at. It was all less magical than she imagined it to be, she always got her hopes up that this one would help her realize that she was, in fact, not in love with her best friend. 

But when, in the midst of it, her choked-up, breathy voice whispered the name of said friend, and Vivian made an equally as surprised face, she knew it was hopeless. In all the romance novels she's ever read, the characters either fall head over heels for eachother, or both die alone without ever confessing, masking their true feelings for the sake of their friendship. Never one-sided love. Ever.  
So, as Vivian shrugged it off, and carelessly continued, Fig kept staring at the ceiling, tears quietly rolling down her face. No sobs, no drama, but tears nonetheless, which, to be fair, Vivian never saw, but Fig didn't know if she would care. Fig certainly cared a lot less about Vivian's tears than Whilly's. A whole lot. As in, make Vivian cry, I'll be mad at you, because no human deserves that, but make Wilhelmina cry and before you know it, your lifeless body is being kicked into the nearest river or you're pushed down a cliff. 

When Bixby called her, the worry slightly seeping through his voice, Fig was immediately alarmed, because while Whilly loved getting drunk, who could blame her, on Shirley Temples, she never overdid it to the point of not being able to sit down in a chair. So she jumpstarted her car, as she knew the exact way to Bixby's, she had been driving this route a lot lately, either for Vivian (they officially stopped seeing eachother for two months now) or alcohol, she couldn't get herself to stop biting her bottom lip excessively, a nervous habit she had been growing accustomed to. 

It was already itchy and burned, but she still let her teeth sink into it, wiggling them back, forth, left, right, and then started over. She knew Bixby would take good care of her, but what if he had to leave suddenly and a man tried anything with her and she was to drunk to say no-  
Fig ignored everything she learned about driving and did not even think about hitting the brakes once. At some point she had to though, her teeth slowly starting to draw blood, as her fingers nervously drummed down on the steering wheel and she was finally there. Storming in, she hastily looked in every direction to see where Whilly was seated, and found her small figure sitting at the bar, talking to Bixby. 

She was crying,

Fig would have been able to see that from a mile away. Her shoulders were heaving excessively, and, as she speedwalked closer she heard the sobs muffled by her hand and locked eyes with an overwhelmed Bixby, who looked tired. Of course, he loved Wilhelmina, she was a well-liked regular, but while having to take customers orders, a drunk girl crying was more than unpleasant. "Whilly, what the hell happened?" As she heard she was being talked to, she firstly turned in the wrong direction, but then faced her -still panting from all the running- friend and threw herself into her arms. "Fig!" 

Fig had always been a good friend. Everytime something was wrong, she knew the right thing to do. Whilly had been dumped by a guy? Chocolate and gossiping was the way to go.  
Her movies had a bad rep in the first few weeks? That called for cuddling in Figs bed with thousands of cushions and blankets while Fig softly ran her hands through her hair, playing with it, until her breathing indicated that she fell asleep.  
She always knew what's wrong and how to fix it, or make it better, work on it, whatever. And while Whilly was also good company during bad times, you could just see that Fig was better at helping people out. And Wilhelmina greatly appreciated that, anytime it was necessary. 

Tightly, her arms wrapped themselves around Fig now, pressing her against herself, in a way trying to tell her that, 'please, just kiss me! I want you to! You're allowed to, please, kiss me and make this unbearable burden go away, just show me that you care that much!'  
But alas, she just felt the same amount of pressure being applied to her waist and back.  
They stood there for a while, not saying a word. No matter the unpleasant situation, Fig's body was covered in goosebumps, her stomach turned, she almost felt as drunk as Whilly, inhaling the perfume of her best friend. It smelled sweet, like they stood not at Bixby's but a candyshop, and the scent perfectly fit with the smell of her hair, that Fig had buried her face in, holding her friend even closer. "I don't know what happened, I don't know if you feel like talking about it, but I'm always here for you, whatever you need. You're my best friend, I love you." Wilhelmina let out a choked sob at the last part of her sentence. Oh yes, if only that statement were true. 

"I don't think that's enough for me."

She whispered, confusing Fig, but she blamed it on Whilly being inebriated, paid her bill and gave Bixby an apologetic look. "She's not usually like this." He nodded, understanding, because over the past hour, he had heard the most beautiful confession of affection he'd ever witness. Wilhelmina had pointed out things about the love of her life that Bixby would have never noticed, the smallest changes in behavior, all her nervous tics and habits, what she subconsciously did when talking about things she was passionate about and how beautiful she was on the inside, that she didn't even care about what she looked like, 

she would want to marry her even if she looked like Buster Keaton after being run over by a car.

Whilly made an attempt at standing up but Fig immediately stopped her.  
"You're not walking, Whilly. I'll carry you."  
And under protest from the small woman, she picked her up, all bridal-style and, whilst being stared at, carried her out of Bixby's out into the open. "Just...take deep breaths. Once we're home I'll help you sober up." Fig said quietly, almost whispering, finally getting a real glimpse of her friend. Whilly's hair was all over the place, her makeup smeared, eyes still glistening with tears. Fig subconsciously had stopped walking to look into her friends' beautiful, mesmerizing eyes, the deep stare being returned, even though, unlike Fig, Wilhelmina was pouting slightly, then looked at her lips. "You're bleeding," she pointed out but Fig, still with a serious expression on her face, returned, "I don't care. The only thing I about is getting you home safely."

Once they got into the car, Fig didn't start it up just yet. "Whilly, do you want to talk?"  
She avoided looking at her, she always did when she was nervous about something, Whilly knew, and Fig knew that she knew.  
"Nah, I- i'ss not that easy, Fig..."  
Her slurring made it hard to understand a thing she was saying but when Fig looked at her friend, she was close to crying again, eyes already filled with tears.  
"Whilly, seriously, if you need to talk-" the other woman cut her off, almost yelling;

"See, the thing is, that you don't notice! You're a good friend but you never do! I, I drop so many hints, like 'oh, my date bailed on me, what only will I do now that I already got the reservation?' and i just want you to say, 'of course I want to go on a date with you!' that's all you're supposed to say! I love it when you take care of me and put effort into it but I only want you to say that you love me because I do! I, I did, for...for years and years and I always wanted you to notice, notice for once that all you need to do to make me feel better is kiss me!"

Fig stared at her friend for a moment. Throughout her messy confession, the slurring stopped and was replaced with hurt, and her usual quirky behavior was nonexistent. There was this aggrieved woman in front of her, that she didn't recognize. Everything from her voice to her facial expression was different, she was unfamiliar to her. 

"All you had to do was ask,"

was all that could leave her mouth at this point. Not the years of hurt and uncertainty, but this. Surprised, but still drunk, Whilly looked up at her, half expecting Fig to just start laughing and say 'just kidding, ha!'  
But she didn't. She looked at her, still, with no intention to burst out laughing, dead serious.  
"then...kiss me?"  
Fig slowly leaned in, slightly fixing Whilly's messy hair by tugging two strands of hair behind her ear, before finally letting her lips meet the ones of the person she had been longing for for years on end. Said woman did not even wait a split second to eagerly kiss her back, leaning into the hand that still cupped one side of her face, trying to move as close as possible. Fig, who noticed, used the strength she got to, without breaking the kiss, pull her over into her lap, two hands now holding on to her waist. 

These were not the best circumstances. Drunk, crying and messy kissing. But for both, not only for Whilly was this more magical than they ever imagined it would be. Vivian could not compare. Freddy could not compare. This is what it was supposed to feel like. That strong, powerful pull, the nails digging into skin, lips colliding, teeth clashing, not painfully so. Fig pulled her closer, their bodies meeting, making Whilly hum in appreciation. Eventually, Fig softly pushed her away, looking at the small woman above her. They didn't need to talk. No words could even begin to sum up what had just happened and what it had felt like. So she just tightly wrapped her arms around her again, feeling a head rest on her shoulder and in bliss enjoyed the silence in the car with fogged up windows, in the middle of the night, underneath the starry sky.


End file.
